


Fucking Gravity

by Dangit



Category: One Piece
Genre: First Meetings, Inspired by a video I saw in Tumblr, M/M, One Shot, cute and short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4402964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangit/pseuds/Dangit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how hot the green-haired guy is, Sanji is not gonna let him destroy Baratie property.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucking Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Another quick one shot. Enjoy

He comes in with a loud group, instantly grabbing Sanji’s attention. They are an odd bunch, from the almost seven feet tall afro’ed man to the short teenager with the fluffy pink hat. Sanji first notices the two beautiful women, immediately approaching the table as soon as he sees the cool and aloof dark-haired beauty and the curvaceous red-headed goddess.

“Good evening, my name is Sanji and I will be your server for the night,” Sanji greets them traditionally, offering the two women a wide smile and offering the group menus. “Would you like to order your drinks now?”

“I’ll have a large cola!” the second tallest but widest man exclaims happily, his blue mohawk attracting more attention than the tan man’s green hair. Seriously, who are these people?

The two women politely ask for lemonade, but everyone else asks for soda as well. Except for the green-haired man who asks for sake. It’s a strange request, though they do have a bottle in their bar, but not a lot of people ask for the traditionally Japanese drink. Sanji quickly serves them their drinks then makes his way to the few other tables he’s attending.

They are short on waiters this evening, so he isn’t going to be able to work in the kitchen for the rest of his shift. Still, he does like working the dining floor sometimes, especially since he gets to meet such beautiful ladies. Though, to be completely honest, Sanji’s attention is fixed on the green-haired man more than his two female companions.

He’s tall, about Sanji’s height, and built heavily with muscle. His shoulders are broad and his waist is narrow, and Sanji is sure that even if he uses both of his hands, he won’t be able to wrap his fingers around the man’s biceps. He has a faded scar on his left eye, rendering it useless, and three dangling gold earrings piercing his ear. He is handsome in an unconventional kind of way, his features a bit rough and edged, but still peculiarly attractive.

He looks slightly familiar, but Sanji is sure he wouldn’t have forgotten such a man if he _had_ met him before. He catches the end of a congratulatory toast when he approaches them with their meal, but only hears enough to deduce that they are celebrating something about the green-haired man.

He doesn’t linger, though, quickly leaving them to check on his other tables. Still, he finds it impossible not to spare a glance at the other man every once in a while. He’s sure he isn’t with either of the two women, but there is no sign that he likes men.

Maybe Sanji can still risk writing his number down in the bill? His only venture into the same gender was his two month relationship with Law, but he never felt comfortable enough to do anything more than kiss and sometimes blow the other man. But his qualms about his bisexuality have settled since then and what better way to explore it again than with a hot as fuck guy?

The sound of glass breaking catches his attention and he quickly looks for the source of the noise. His gaze locks with a dark green eye, but his eyes quickly move down to look at the broken cup near the man’s feet.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” the green-haired man apologizes, bending down to pick up the broken piece.

“It’s fine; I got it,” Sanji says quickly, rushing forward to stop the man from getting himself cut. He use his arm towel to pick up the sharp shards to protect his hands. He motions with a jerk of his hand for Luc, one of his waiters, to bring the mop, and stands up. “I’ll get you another cup.”

“Thanks,” the man says awkwardly, glaring at the long-nosed man when he snickers.

Sanji simply nods and after making sure that the mess is cleaned, he leaves to get the tanned man his second cup. The man thanks with an adorably dark blush and he looks so cute that Sanji decides not to charge him for the second cup; it probably was an accident anyway.

Sanji steps into the kitchen for a little while just to alleviate the dinner rush, but when he steps back out, he’s surprised to see Keimi and Luc cleaning up another mess near the green-haired man. He frowns when he sees the broken shards in Keimi’s hand and quickly walks to the bar to get another cup, this one bigger.

“So it doesn’t slip,” Sanji tells the green-haired man when he offers it, his voice a little mocking. One cup is one thing, but to break two? How clumsy is this man!?

“I’m really sorry,” the man says earnestly, his mouth turned down in a frown, and Sanji’s anger dwindles.

“You’re fine,” he says honestly, offering a small smile. “It happens.”

The man smiles in returned and it makes Sanji’s day. With a lighter step and a stronger resolve to give the man his number in the receipt, he returns to his job. He visits his other tables, and when the large group calls for their bill a few minutes later, Sanji writes his number and name near the bottom on their copy. Before he can deliver it, however, he’s called by one of his other tables. The elderly couple asks for him to send the compliments to the chef and when Sanji tells them he made the soup, they spent a few minutes praising him.

It puts him in an even better mood—that quickly vanishes when he sees the green-haired man drop his third cup of the night.

Sanji is momentarily stunned, his mind not connecting the dots. Surely…surely that fucking bastard did _not_ just fucking dropped his cup!? And it isn’t like it’s an accident or whatever—oh no, the guy actually holds his cup in the air while he laughs with his friends and instead of fucking putting it on the table like a fucking normal person, he just _drops_ it. Does he think Sanji will just give him another one!?

“Oi, what the hell is your problem!?” Sanji yells, surprising the man and his group.

The green-haired man looks at him with his eye all wide and confused, his blushing expression way too adorable to calm Sanji down. Fucking bastard, just because he’s hot and surprisingly cute doesn’t mean Sanji is going to put up with his fuckery.

“What? Do you think these cups are cheap?” Sanji snaps, tapping his foot on the wooden floor rapidly. The other patrons quiet down to pay more attention, but Sanji ignores them. “You just fucking _dropped_ it!”

“I’m sorry,” the man repeats quickly, glancing at his friends then back at Sanji. “I’m just not used to it.”

“Used to what? Fucking gravity?” Sanji snarls.

“Yes,” the man answers, completely serious.

Sanji stares at him, a little surprised, and suddenly realizes where he knows the man from. “Oh…you’re… Zoro.”

Zoro, a.k.a. Commander Roronoa Zoro, the youngest astronaut to ever fly in space at the tender age of twenty-three, the only person in the world to have set a metaphorically foot outside of the solar system (his path paved by the Voyager 2), and the only one to have ever travelled through a wormhole.

It’s no wonder Sanji doesn’t recognize him—Zoro left for his mission in the Sunny Go almost two years ago, the event heavily publicized. He remembers hearing about it on the radio, though he didn’t watch the launching like the rest of the world.

Holy shit, Sanji just yelled at a fucking _national hero_.

“I keep expecting things to just…float around,” Zoro says, slightly awkward but clearly trying to go for humor.

It startles Sanji into movement. “Shit, my bad,” Sanji mumbles, quickly moving to pick up the broken pieces on the floor.

“I got it,” he quickly says when Zoro makes as if to help him. He straightens up and wipes his sake-soaked hand in his towel. “I’ll get you another—shit, no, your bill,” he says, untucking the padded folder from his pants, but then remembers he stupidly wrote his number at the bottom and quickly snatches it out of Zoro’s hand.

“It’s on the house,” Sanji tells him, but Zoro scowls and takes the bill from his hand.

“The least I can do is pay for it,” Zoro says, frowning.

“It’s fine,” Sanji growls, trying to take the bill back but Zoro already opened it and is looking at the bill. The bill where Sanji wrote his number like the fucking dumbass that he is. “Uh…” he blushes and looks away, willing for the earth to swallow him. Shit, how much more embarrassing can things get?

“It’s smudged,” Zoro says suddenly, distracting him.

“What?”

“Your number,” Zoro explains, grinning. “How am I supposed to call you when I can’t read it?”

“I’m…” Holy shit, is this for real? Sanji stares at Zoro with his mouth open, the words escaping his thoughts, and Zoro’s grin only widens.

“Here, I’ll just give you mine,” Zoro says, pulling out a pen from his pocket. He grabs Sanji’s arm—his skin is surprisingly warm and calloused—and quickly writes down his number in Sanji’s forearm. “Call me,” he smirks and promptly lets go of the pen.

Sanji and Zoro but look down at the floor and then Sanji looks at Zoro, grinning.

“Fucking gravity,” Zoro mutters, blushing bright red as he leans down to pick up his pen. “ _Don’t_ fucking say anything,” he growls at Sanji, whose grins only widens.

“Bill is on the house, ladies,” he tells Zoro’s two beautiful companions. “And can you make sure no one hands him a baby? Don’t want him getting arrested before our first date.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep a close eye on him,” the red-head goddess says and the afro’ed man giggles. That’s all it takes for the rest of his friends to burst out into loud laughter and Zoro glares at Sanji.

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” Zoro mutters.

“Ditto,” Sanji says, still grinning.

It looks like he’s getting his hot date after all, and things are shaping out to be out of this world.

**Author's Note:**

> I totally thought of this whenever I saw that video going around Tumblr of that astronaut that drops his cup and pen during an interview because he's not used to Earth's gravity yet.
> 
> (p.s: I apologize for the huge cliche at the end


End file.
